Running Free
by Elizabeth Mei
Summary: Did the flying car intrigue you? Did you ever wonder about what was up with that? This is his story!


I doubt that any have ever told my story. Why would they when I was never even given a name? I chose one for myself, but that is best left for a later time. Until after I earned that most precious treasure.

My first memory took place in a chilly room. It took a while before I knew enough to designate it a garage. It was large but crammed with all manner of things. What they were is unimportant, all that matters is that they were like me. Lifeless, cold objects that were made into something more, infused with new purpose through magic. There was a man. An odd fellow with red hair who whistled tunelessly, between gibberish, as he waved his stick around. To others, he was unimportant, even foolish. To me he was Father. This man who didn't give me a name had one of his own. He was called Arthur Weasley.

Arthur would stroke my hood and tell me I was beautiful. I did not know what that meant, but I liked it. Feelings would come later, with experiences. Back then I found him curious, and I had this need to please him. Though I knew not why.

He told me about his family. By this time I understood the concept of pride. He had sons no longer living with him. I recognized the great pride he felt for his grown boys. He expressed worry for his younger children. The next oldest who treasured the wrong things and might lose his way. Twin boys that he feared would be thrown into Azkaban before they could graduate. His youngest son who was jealous and insecure. A girl, the youngest of all, who had great potential but he feared for because of her gender and age. Mostly I heard of his wife who he loved dearly but who must never, ever, learn of my charmed existence.

And so I lived in his garage. Out there were sights and sounds I feared I would never experience. Longing became a frequent and familiar friend.

One night the door to my world opened. Standing before me were the twins, Fred and George. One danced about gleefully, while the other tugged on the youngest boy's arm.

"It's perfect," Fred said, "Just pop on over and nick Harry home."

"I don't know." Ron pulled his arm free. "Mom'll kill us. Besides, we don't know that Harry's in any kind of trouble."

"Can you think of any other reason you mate didn't write you back? Not even _one_ letter?"

Ron shrugged, not having an answer.

"That's that, then. I'm driving." Fred dove behind my wheel.

I was free! My wheels touched the dirt of the drive. It felt so good under my tires. Then Fred touched a button on my dash. A strange tingling spread through my body. I felt light and rose into the air. How can I describe the feeling of flying? It felt like freedom. And power. There was nothing I couldn't do, no barriers in my path. I knew it was temporary and decided to savor every minute. It would end with my being a prisoner in that garage once more.

We flew that night, me and the younger Weasley boys. Upon reaching Potter's window a rope was thrown around the bars blocking it. I pulled with all my might and wrenched it free. The steel smacked me on the side, leaving a small dent and scratching my paint. This was the first insult.

After delivering the boy to my father's home, I was sent to the garage. I expected this, but it was harder than I thought it would be. That small taste of freedom left behind a burning hunger. When would I get to experience it again?

The wait seemed like forever, but in truth, it was only a month. Now that I had been let out, Father's wife trusted her family to me. We traveled to the train station, the entire clan comfortably seated in my magically enhanced interior. I was not allowed to fly. Though I missed it, staying on the road was so much better than the cramped and boring garage. There was so much to see: other cars, buildings, animals, and people. There were so many people in the greater world!

Ron and Harry came out alone and Ron slipped onto my driving seat. He made me invisible and then up I went. They squealed and cried out several times, and then I was above the clouds. Occasionally we dipped below, but then up we went again. Wonderful as it was at first, as the hours passed, it got harder. I became tired. The sun had set and still, we pressed on. Every time I tried to go down to rest, the boys forced me up again. It started to hurt. I whined in protest and waved my wipers at them, but they continued on relentlessly. No attempt to assert control succeeded. The spells binding me into submission were too strong.

Something within my body snapped. I shuddered and fell from the sky, fighting the whole way down. Steam poured out from under my hood. The ground was coming at me too fast, I had to slow down, but I couldn't. Then I caught the air. I was about to rise when I hit a tree. Those foolish boys had aimed me right at it! A branch slammed into my side. Then another hit my roof. They were everywhere, they just kept coming. The tree was animate and it was trying to kill me!

I was going to die. Fear pushed me to do the impossible. Desperation engaged my engine, and at the same time, slipped my mind free from the bindings. With a sputtering, I backed away from my assailant. Expelling my cruel jailers and their belongings, I charged to freedom. I would never fly again, but I embraced the safety of a nearby forest.

This new home welcomed me. Insects made nests behind my mirrors. Birds ate their kills on my hood. Centaurs passed by cautiously, giving me a wide berth. Time passed and I was content.

I had almost forgotten about my past when I heard a familiar voice. It was young Ron Weasley, and he sounded frightened. Unsurprising, these woods were dangerous for delicate skinned humans. I hesitated before approaching. He had pushed me, hurt me. But then I thought of Father. How he treasured and worried about his son. About how he made me what I was now. I loved him, and I owed him. Very well, I would do one last thing to honor him.

After our initial greeting, Ronald and his friend were taken by the giant spiders. I followed slowly and cautiously. There were many holes and patches of slick mud that could catch my tires. When I found the boys again they were surrounded. I screamed at the creatures, glared with my light, and charged. I knocked some aside and flung my doors open for the boys. They clambered inside and I brought them out of my forest. Once they were safe, I returned home.

Here I found a new life. I vow to never let magical folk enslave me again. Cleansing rain washes away my past. Low branches caress my hood and roof. Fallen limbs and rocks are hard on my tires but this life is mine, and mine alone. It is difficult, but I am free.

My name is Rogue.

End


End file.
